The Lost Diadem
by teddylupin-snape
Summary: "I stole the diadem. I sought to make myself cleverer, more important than my mother. I ran away with it." -Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. :: The story of Helena Ravenclaw


"Have you seen what I've created, Helena?"

You look up at your mother, saying, "I've heard. But surely you don't think a diadem can increase the wisdom of whoever wears it. It would take much more than that, wisdom comes from learning, not from accessories." You turn back to the book in your hand and continue to read where you'd left off, hardly hearing her as she replies.

"You know full well it's not simply a diadem. If magic can be used to enhance the wisdom of those who are lacking in knowledge, why should I not use it to my advantage?"

You take a deep breath, marking your place in the book and setting it aside. You were proud of what you'd learned – you put rather a lot of effort into upholding your knowledge. But of course your mother would find a way for those who put little to no effort into anything to become wiser.

"Mother, you're helping to open a school. Has it never occurred to you that perhaps a student of yours will use this diadem to excel in classes they would otherwise fail?"

Rowena sighed, the excited look she had worn when she first came to speak with you had faded quickly.

"I'm sorry," you add, trying to amend your previous statement. "It's fascinating, honestly. I'm just worried that it could be used for the wrong reasons."

x

For months, you watch your mother and the other founders of Hogwarts wearing the diadem she'd created. You watch them as their wisdom is enhanced by the item's power, and you can't help but feel jealousy brimming within you. They clearly do not need to wear the diadem, they are four of the cleverest witches and wizards of the day – they must be if they started a school to teach magic.

Despite what you'd told your mother (and yourself) at first, you can't help but be intrigued by the diadem she'd made.

x

Years go by, and the diadem – Ravenclaw's Diadem, they call it now – still piques your interest when you see it.

Thoughts cross your mind incessantly when it's in sight: _Mother doesn't need anything to enhance her wisdom_, _I'm a Ravenclaw, should that not mean the diadem is mine as well as hers?_

These thoughts become stronger, and you dwell on them more frequently than you had before.

After years of contemplation, you finally find yourself sneaking into her room when your mother is fast asleep, taking the diadem from it's place of honour on her shelf, and sneaking back out before she can catch you.

There's a part of you – the logical part – that feels your life spinning out of your control, but you can't say you care anymore.

x

You have to get out, and quick. You Apparate to who-knows-where, but it's far enough away from home that she won't be able to find you easily.

Slowly, you learn to trust the area, your safe haven from scrutiny.

You aren't disturbed for the longest time.

And of course, when you are, it's her.

x

"Why have you come here?" you ask, pulling yourself up to your full height and meeting his eyes unwaveringly. "Has my mother sent you?"

The Baron didn't meet your eyes, but nodded, staring at nothing behind you.

It was true that you had loved him once, but that day had passed and you'd moved on. If you hadn't wanted to see how he'd changed – in appearance and personality – you likely wouldn't have been able to meet his eyes either. You had had a rather hard time splitting up with him, and so had he.

"What does she want?" You return the conversation to the topic at hand, rather than your past, and his eyes dart to yours.

"She is ill, she wanted to say goodbye, to tell you that she has forgiven you."

"Goodbye? How ill is she?"

Again, he refuses to meet your eyes as he responds, "She is dying."

You look down at your feet solemnly. You knew there would come a time, that this would have to happen sooner or later, but you hadn't quite come to terms with the concept of losing her even long after you'd run away.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, and you nod your thankfulness.

"Is that all?"

He bites his lip, a habit you clearly remember. "Why did you leave?"

"I had to. I'd spent long enough there, it was time I left, so I did."

The Baron slowly moves his hand to take yours, and you let him. "Have you never thought of coming back? Don't you wish to return home?"

"It can hardly be considered my home anymore. I've been away too long. I've been here," you say, gesturing around you at the secluded Albanian woods. "Long enough for it to be home to me."

"Please come back with me. You can visit your mother, things can go back to how they were before."

You take a deep breath, shaking your head. "I can't go back with you. I'm not going back there, I'm sorry." You see his old anger bubbling back up, and it's something you don't want to deal with now. "Go."

"Helena, come back," he snarls, but you hold your ground. "I need you." The words become almost desperate, but you know better now. "You don't understand how hard I've worked to find you. How long I looked for you—"

"Leave, Baron. Don't bother returning, for I'll be gone from here if you do. I won't be coming back, I'd much rather spend the rest of my life here alone."

"Would you, now? I assure you, that can easily be arranged." His voice is dangerous now, and you shrink back slightly, your back hitting a tree. "No way out now, is there?" The Baron raises an eyebrow menacingly – you marvel briefly at how quickly he's transitioned to cruel.

"You wouldn't hurt me, Baron. You still love me—"

The words have hardly left your mouth by the time you see a flash of silver and feel a sharp pain in your chest. Your eyes flit down, and you see nothing more than the handle of his dagger protruding from your body, blood pooling around it, seeping through the cloak you wore, staining the black.

"Would you prefer to go back to Mummy in a casket?" he jokes, watching the colour leave your face, watching you fall to your knees before him. You never told him that you'd stolen your mother's diadem, but you were sure he'd discover it soon enough.

Everything faded from before you as you fell softly at his feet, moving no more.

**x**

**For the Quidditch League Round 7 (Reserve Bats Chaser 3, using the prompt to write about Ravenclaw's Diadem). Also for the Represent that Character Challenge and the Fanfiction Scavenger Hunt (A Founders Era fic).**


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